The Twain Do Meet.

Woburn merges into Moera (which must not be pronounced “Mo-ee-ra,” with accent on the “ee”). There is a line of division, but who could pick it? Such a line may be like Euclid's “length without breadth” or Euclid's “position without magnitude.” So Woburn is more or less Moera, and Moera is more or less Woburn.

Yet the streets of Moera have some distinctiveness, due to a town-planner. They curve about, and in and out, in a manner which rather fascinates a stranger, for he may wonder now and then whether he is going or coming. It is a plan which should promote sobriety, for one could well imagine a fuddled and muddled inebriate doddering and dithering for hours in the maze at midnight.

Together, Woburn and Moera have between 6000 and 7000 residents. In that locality the Government built more than 300 houses a dozen years ago. Later on, the Railways Department provided welcome help in home-making. It bought a large area of farmland, which it subdivided for dwellings. To-day the hand of the Government is again busy in the building of many houses in this locality.

Several streets have their wide footpaths planted with pohutukawas, which are already old enough to flash their crimson sprays in mid-summer. What a noble spread they will make as the years go on!

In another part of the Lower Hutt are streets which bear the names of native trees—Kowhai, Ngaio and others —and do not bear them in vain, for each road has its own lines of distinctive trees. Could there be a better way of showing a helpful interest in native trees? Evidently the residents take a pride in those tree-planted streets which are a joy to wayfarers, on foot or in vehicles.